A Carnal Contemplation
by MRTL85
Summary: A quiet evening in the Forge with her favourite book leads Cassandra to a dream that both terrifies and stirs unusual feelings within her.


Hello everyone! Here is my newest and third installment to 'Fade to Black', called _A Carnal Contemplation_ , featuring Seeker Cassandra and her own erotic dream.

I have decided to post this here because I didn't want to completely abandon my followers on , so what I've done is take the explicit stuff out of the story and left it up to your imagination to fill in the blanks. If you wish to read the full explicit version, please feel free to hop onto Ao3 as it is posted in all its smutty glory there.

 _disclaimer_ : There is a fair chunk of Cassandra angst and hurt throughout this, as well as a lot of anger. I do promise, that even though she gets put through a lot now, she will have a true happy ending. I also want to point out this implies some unrequited love between the Seeker and Varric which could turn into something real in the future. If you don't like Cassandra and Varric as a pairing, maybe forgo this one entirely. It isn't imperative that you read it to get the gist of the story, as in A Tantalizing Fantasy, there is a glimpse of the happenings in there already.

Lastly, All things DA belong to Bioware/EA. I just like to borrow and play with their characters. :P

* * *

 **A Carnal Contemplation**

 _Now her hand is raised, a sword to pierce the sun, with the iron shield she defends the faithful, let chaos be undone._

-Canticle of Victoria 1:3

After the fire was tamped down to a gentle orange glow and last blacksmith had put his tools to bed, Cassandra became eager to crack open and delve between the pages of _Swords and Shields_. It was a frivolity that she not often allowed herself to engage in, since the inquisition had been reinstated by her own hand. Sometimes though, on evenings like this, she would change into her shift, sit near the dying fire and allow herself to escape among that book. Varric's words would envelope her, spinning images like a spider among her thoughts, allowing her mind a much needed break from life's obligations.

Almost every spare moment was trained on the tale now, every detail vivid in her mind, as sharp as the blade she wielded. It never left her once, holding steadfast in her mind like a demon and as she neared the final pages, a growl of frustration shot forth. How could he have left her like this, standing upon a precipice with no true ending in sight?! She had -no, needed- to know how it was going to be resolved. Desperation and unease filled her to the brim; the need to have resolution was almost unbearable. Nearly five years had gone by without any conclusion in sight and she wondered if the dwarfs final installment would never see the light of day. She was quickly becoming like a mother searching for her lost child in a crowd—trepidation and torment threatening to pull her apart at the seams. Not that she would tell him that. She would rather be slain by an Abyssal High Dragon, then tell him what she thought of his smutty literature. She was not about to have the dwarf make fun of her for her choice in books.

She pondered and read as dusk's sleepy glow turned into inky black, creeping up on her like a shadow in the night. Realizing she wouldn't be able to continue reading with the fading light, she struck a match which sparked to life against the wood of the desk; the candle accepted the coral coloured flame like a lover as she put the match to the wick. Maker she was tired. A yawn slowly escaped her lips, as she turned her attention to the novel that often dominated her thoughts. _Perhaps after I finish these last few pages, I will retire for the night,_ she reasoned with herself, letting another yawn take purchase on her lips.

With only two pages left, the words began to blur in the dim light. Her lids—rough as sandpaper against her tired eyes—squeezed shut and she rubbed at them forcefully, trying to keep sleep at bay. Sweet Andraste, she wanted to stay awake. She forced her heavy lids open to their limit, blinking several times and stretching like a cat to wake her heavy limbs up. She was trying desperately to convince her tired body to allow her this guilty pleasure, no matter how much her mind was at odds with it. She was intent on finishing it tonight.

Giving another yawn, she picked up the book and began another attempt, but soon she couldn't hold back any longer. The book began to slip from her calloused fingers and landed on her chest with a soft thump. Her long lashed lids drooped heavily once, twice, and then closed completely—closing themselves like a heavy door. Slumber was imminent.

~aCc~

She woke to the sound of low, gravelly chuckling meeting her ears. The tone was familiar. She started at the realization; eyes flying open to spy the dwarf staring at her, his features a flourish of amusement and something else she couldn't quite place.

"Varric! What in Most Holy's name are you doing here?" She sputtered, the book slipping down her chest, panic written on her face as clear as the words in his book. Maker, her secret indulgence would be seen by the person who she wished to hide it from the most. What was she to do? She couldn't very well hide it, especially when it was perched precariously atop her breasts. It was clear he had seen it too, by his chortling as she awoke. He leaned in—looming over her, his sturdy frame a craggy bluff before her and she, the sea beneath. There was no escaping it. May the Maker have mercy on her soul.

"I could ask you the same thing, Seeker." She heard his rugged voice say with a sly grin. He had placed a sturdy hand on her armrest—creaking slightly under his strong grip—and she got the hint that he intended on her staying put. The other hand slithered out like a snake to pluck the slipping book from her bosom; his fingers clasped the cover and in doing so, scratched against of her shift underneath, pressing the fabric down into the valley of her breasts. Heat radiated from his hand while it was sandwiched between the cover and her chest, scorching her skin through the thin cloth between them. A burning spark sprang to life as his fingers lingered in the hollow the book had created, once again igniting the smouldering desire for him she had many times tried to stamp out.

He flicked his eyes down to the book in his hand. "Now, what do we have here? Swords and Shields? Huh..." he drawled with amusement. "I never would have guessed that you of all people would take _pleasure_ in reading my romance serial. I pinned you as more of a Hard in Hightown kind of girl. You learn something new everyday."

She wanted more than anything to wipe the smirk off his face, and yet, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Something inside made her take pause when normally she would have lashed out. Was it because he had kindled feelings of lust within her? Perhaps. Was it more to do with the fact she wanted to see if their current interaction would cross over into the unknown? Admittedly, yes.

Before this seemingly intimate encounter, she had found herself thinking provocative thoughts of the dwarf from time to time. It must have, in part, been the way he flaunted his masculinity like a trophy; allowing his brawny expanse of chest—covered in a spattering of burnished gold hair—to bare itself for all of Thedas' eyes to see. It was more than distracting. And yet, that wasn't the only reason her mind was drawn to thinking of him. The true reason was his way with words; they came as natural to him as breathing—a master of his craft, to be sure. He brandished them as confidently as he did his crossbow, often firing them out into the world like one of his bolts and just about as deadly too. His books were another matter entirely though. When his words were written, they flowed over the page like silk, caressing her mind so intimately it often left her feeling like a puddle on the floor. It was confounding. How could he be so caustic and bothersome in person, only to turn around and scribe such erotic and tantalizing words upon the page? It often caused her to ponder what else his silver tongue was good at. She had initially crushed those thoughts, for obvious reasons. A notorious liar, thief and all around scoundrel was not someone she had intended on being attracted to, but there was a certain sort of romanticism in that she just couldn't ignore. As time went on, her steely heart began to warm to his constant presence and now, every time she laid eyes on him, he made her feel as if one hundred Drufallo were stampeding in her chest. She couldn't explain it. It was preposterous… and so impossibly romantic.

He was so close to her now, she could feel his warm breath ghost over her lips. She felt like she was a caged bear with him crowding her like this. Normally, she would just give him a push and storm off, but that wouldn't accomplish anything. What it would do is make her feel more flustered than she already felt and give him more fodder to rib her with. Best deal with it straight away, like a wound. Deep down however, tucked away like a family heirloom, hope reigned. This moment between them had the potential to ignite her already kindled passion. But what could she possibly say to him? She was impossibly bad at these things. Any courage she had bolstered vanished at her confession. Perhaps she would stay silent, and just glower at him. Intimidation and aloofness were what they were both familiar with, after all.

Watching his glinting hazel eyes shift from their place upon the book's cover to stare into her own, caused her breath to catch; they shone like titanite gemstones in the dim candlelight as he dragged them slowly downward, laying them to rest on her plump lips. Bringing such attention to her mouth made her cheeks burn under his scrutiny and she ran her tongue over them in a silent reply. She was certain her action had enticed a small groan to fall from his lips; the noise causing the rosy blush that made home upon her cheeks to creep like down her neck like a vine. Was he actually trying to show a fondness for her? Show her he actually felt something between them as she had aspired? A small touch of optimism fluttered in her sheltered heart, daring her to think the impossible.

"Would you like to know my secret on writing romance novels, Cassandra?" He teased, saying her name with unspoken intention. Her usual boldness evaporated like steam from a bath at the use of her proper name, and even though she thought to shake her head no, she couldn't help but feel the spark of curiosity ignite within her mind. How had he produced such enticing words that had often left her breathless? She wanted to know, even though it was against her better judgement, she gave a nod.

He leaned in slowly and her senses became heightened at his proximity. All time seemed to slow for her. It was his scent that hit her first—a mixture of apples, cocoa, exotic nuts and spice; it curled around her like smoke, bold and intoxicating. Then, she felt the rough pinpricking of his stubble across her cheek, the bristly hair sending a shiver down her spine. The intimacy of his presence had cast a spell over her and it sent a searing heat pooling low in her belly. She had no idea he could consciously entice such feelings from her. Andraste have mercy, she was becoming bewitched. What startled her more was not only the fact she _liked_ it, but she wanted _more_.

His breath was upon her ear at last, its warmth drawing another shiver from her as gooseflesh cascaded down her toned arms. Maker, he was intoxicating. How had she been able to keep herself so stoic before? How had she been able to deny any of the feelings she had felt for him. It made her head spin.

His rough voice spilled out across her ear then, interrupting her heated thoughts. "You wanna know how I write such great smut?" He spoke barely above a whisper, but it was enough to make her draw in a sharp breath. He was about to reveal his secret.

An entertained chuckle rumbled out from his chest at her shock. "Practical experience, seeker."

Maker's breath, he used his… dalliances as research? She never thought he had it in him be this forward and obscene about such things. He usually guarded himself fairly well on that front, avoiding questions by deflecting or turning it back upon the querier. His frankness about it was unusually arousing and left her feeling truly hot and bothered. He knew it too. Blasted dwarf, he always had to be such a tease.

"Would you like to know another secret?" He whispered, his lips so close they brushed the shell of her ear. "I've found myself with a touch of writers block and I'm in need of a favour. I was wondering if you could help me—well, _bang_ it out so to speak." All at once, he had pulled her earlobe gently into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the soft flesh and letting it go with a wet 'pop'. Kisses found their way down her jawline next, her skin feeling like it was ablaze with every touch of his lips.

Maker above, he was good with his mouth. Not that she doubted it for a second.

Something nagged at her though. She couldn't help but wonder why he decided to approach her about this. Up until this—rendezvous—he had never shown any interest in her that way—or so she thought. He liked to provoke her of course, but not once did he take things beyond being friendly. More to the point, he could very well have any other number of alluring participants if his tales were anything to go by. Why her? What could she possibly possess that they did not.

"Varric, aren't there others who would be… better suited to help you? What about scout Harding? Or the red headed bar maiden Bull had talked about? I hardly think I would be what you were looking for. I'm much too chaste," She panted out, leaning into his touch as her hand instinctively moved to thread her fingers in his spun gold strands.

"Now Seeker, we both know that's not true. You are many things, but chaste isn't one of them," he growled out against the column of her neck.

She was breathing hard now. "Oh? Do tell," she teased back, her boldness returning. "I am curious to hear what qualities I posses that you find so… enticing. I hardly seem attractive by conventional standards, and my manners are often seen as… harsh."

"Now why would you go and say such a thing, seeker? You may be… abrupt, but that's just part of your charm. And as for your physical appearance, I happen to think you're stunning. Take, for instance, your neck. It's elegant, sleek and just begging to have my lips pressed against it. And your legs! Maker they go on for miles…," he murmured into the curve adjacent to her shoulder, sending vibrations skittering across her skin like a rock skipping across water. The hand that had previously held the book, let it slip unceremoniously to the floor with a dull thunk. Fingers then ghosted up her side, the heat radiating from his strong but soft hands, until it came to rest upon her thinly covered breast. Her breath was snagged from her as he began to tease the offending nipple under her shift, coaxing it to pebble under his ministrations.

The words were getting stuck in her throat and she choked on them like a piece of food. It was so very hard to concentrate on forming coherent words with his teeth grazing over her collarbone and his tongue gliding over the delicate skin. Blessed Andraste, he made her feel like an Orlesian delicacy the way he was nibbling and sucking at her bare neck. She couldn't hold herself back any longer. Passion exploded within her for the dwarf, consuming any foul emotions she felt toward him in the blast. A loud moan sprang forth; the walls she had erected within herself had completely crumbled. She was completely his.

She couldn't hold onto the secrecy a moment longer. "Oh _Varric_ ," she breathed, as his other hand moved to match its twin. "How long have I pined for you under a veil of secrecy. I have lain awake many nights, envisioning what you and I would be like if we were lovers. Where your hands would roam and how your tongue would ravish my body. I- I cannot keep my feelings inside a moment longer. I will not. Say you feel the same. Say you share my sentiment on the matter!" She cried out as he pinched both budding nipples simultaneously, his face still buried in her neck, his whiskers creating her skin to take on a dusky glow.

"You mean you can't tell? Not even with my lips against your skin, kissing you just so, and my hands caressing your fantastic breasts? Looks like I have my work cut out for me. I'll have to try harder then."

~aCc~

They slumped against each other, Varric moving to lay back upon the table; Cassandra collapsed on top of his prone form in exhaustion as they waited for their breathing to slow. Her eyes closed blissfully, listening to the racing beat of his heart underneath her head and let out a contented sigh. There was truly nothing better than being completely satiated after a passionate bout of sex. She had abstained for far to long.

Then a thought occurred to her, as her mind was clearing from it's lust driven state. She was a candidate for the sunburst throne. This tryst they shared would assuredly put a mark against her candidacy and knowing nothing was truly secret in Skyhold, it would not take long for it to become public. Her chance to enforce real change within the Chantry could very well be dashed. Maker what had she done?! A momentary diversion had the potential to ruin everything. What a blighted fool she was.

She was just about to scramble off of Varric in a panic when the table made a loud groan as if something heavy had sat upon it. That's when she felt a colossal expanse of muscle at her back and what she could only guess as a club like object rubbing between the cheeks of her ass. Andraste preserve her, what in Thedas was happening?!

"Varric! I see you've given our Seeker an excellent warm up by the looks of things! She's all sweaty and flushed, Just how I like her. Congrats on your conquest, but now is time for the main event! We could play a little game I like to call 'Dwarf in the middle if you're interested?" Iron Bull's baritone voice cut through the silence like a sword.

This was ludicrous!

Cassandra froze on the spot. How in the blazes did he get in here without her noticing!? And who in the fade asked him to join them?! This was absurd! She would—for certain—need to be checked out by a healer. She must be delusional. All of the stress from helping the inquisition and the potential to become Divine was making her hallucinate. Yes, that was it. She was hallucinating.

Varric chuckled, breaking apart her troubled thoughts like a finished puzzle. "I hate to be the barer of bad news Tiny, but I'm bushed. Not that the offer doesn't sound enticing though. Maybe another time? Besides, I think she'll need extra attention from you now that she's been limbered up. She fucks so much _harder_ when she's hot for it."

She was just about to scream in horror and humiliation, when the table made a snapping sound like a tree being felled. It was going to break under the weight of them; Varric and herself would be crushed under the massive expanse of the Iron Bull. Suddenly the table gave out and she felt herself being hurtled to the ground, pinned between a dwarf and a qunari. She moments away from being squashed, when it all went black.

~aCc~

Cassandra shot awake like a crossbow bolt, flying out of her seat in horror filled confusion and shouting out in dread to an empty room. Her lungs gasped for air as she came to her senses; it had all been a terrifying and vividly erotic dream. Blessed Andraste, it was just a dream.

She gave a loud sigh. She had not made a mistake and become intimately involved with Varric or with Bull. The prospect of change by her hand unblemished, her secret thoughts of the dwarf and his book were kept safe. The thought couldn't come as more of a relief, as she clasped her long fingers around the novel and pulled it toward her.

Picking it up, she made to stand, her bones protesting. The fog of sleep had temporarily abated from her fright as she peered into the inky blackness of the room. The candle must have burned out long ago, and the once dying fire was asleep in its hearth. Time to retire in earnest.

Padding her way through the gloom, she made her way up the stairs to her bedroll. Hunkering down beneath the soft blankets and fur, she gave one last thought to the highly unusual dream. There was something off-putting about it, but she didn't have the mind to ponder it further. Her body ached from being stationary in the chair for so long, so much so that her head started to vex her, and she wanted nothing more than to shut her eyes and make it all go away.

The warmth of the blankets soothed her pained and perturbed mind; the moderate comfort of the bedroll lulled her to sleep once more.

~aCc~

Morning came all too soon, the first rays of dawn filtered in through the nearby window. As a habit, she routinely awoke at first light, but today, she settled on lingering in the space between the fade and wakefulness.

The dream had no doubt weakened her conviction, and she was in no proper frame of mind to reflect on such a startling contemplation. She would much rather stay wrapped up in the warmth of her covers and pretend the whole thing didn't exist, feigning ignorance.

Sometime later—when she had finally convinced herself to prepare for the day and her starvation made her stomach growl—she made her way to the main hall. As she strode purposely up the steps, the thought of Varric being at his usual post gripped fiercely at her mind. The idea of having to walk past the dwarf made heat flare across her cheeks as if on fire. How was she going to accomplish such a feat without giving herself away? It seemed nearly impossible. There was no way he would not pick up on her unease, and question her on it. He was much too observant. That was not a discussion she wished to have either. Maker's breath.

No. She needed to stand her ground and not act like such a simpering maiden. She was an astute woman, well aware of the ways of the world and it was not the first time such a dream had infiltrated her mind while asleep. It was a perfectly natural occurrence, one that should not have any hold on her in the waking world. It was merely a dream, nothing more. Her resolution set like a pyre, she entered the building.

No more than a few steps in, his telltale voice broke through the din. "Morning seeker. Sleep well?"

She had half a mind to ignore him, but thought better of it. Best to answer, but do it succinctly. Then, she could carry on and try to discount the dream altogether.

"No, I did not. Good day, Varric." Making to turn on her heel, she wanted to find the farthest place away from the dwarf, hoping the short answer would satisfy him. Clearly, it did not.

"Oh? Have a bad dream, did you Seeker? You know, I might have something to help you keep them at bay…"

Her head whipped round, looking at him for the first time since their conversation. His hazel eyes twinkled with mirth, smirking at the way she frowned at him. Was that meant to have double entendre? Did he just make some sort of a proposition? No, most certainly not. She was hearing things. He couldn't possibly have meant it like that.

"I am perfectly fine, and do not need any assistance, especially from you." She snipped back, already growing tired of the conversation. Could he not take a hint? This was becoming insufferable. She let out an exasperated sigh, hoping that was the end of it.

"Are you sure? My method's happen to be tried, tested and true and I'm not just saying that. Ask Tiny. He's experienced it first hand."

At the mention of The Iron Bull, she began to loose her composure. What was this? Some perverse trick? She had been so certain it was a dream. Varric's referral to Bull though had planted doubt in her mind. It _had_ been unusually vivid. No! There was no way.

"I am sure. Now, please, would you excuse me..." She needed to retreat from the conversation with haste. Again, she tried to leave, now with more urgency than before.

"Alright. Suit yourself, seeker. But if you come asking for help, I could very well deny you next time. Are we clear?" That's when she swore she saw his eyes flicker their gaze down to her lips for a fraction of a moment.

Divine's grace! Hadn't he said that very thing to her while they were- No! It could not be! And the surveying of her lips, just like he had before he mentioned wanting to have relations with her for research! Did that mean it wasn't a dream after all? That it was as real as the soft, glistening hair on Varric's chest? Maker's breath. She feared the worst. Now the ass was making light by teasing her about it in public?! How dare he!

It was always her main purpose to help restore order to Thedas if she was to become Divine, but now, she could very well loose her chance because of her folly! She should kill him right now, and be done with it!

A battle like cry came forth from her and she lunged at the dwarf, grabbing his coat and tunic in a death grip, lifting him clear off the ground.

"Well, if this doesn't just make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You know, if you wanted a kiss seeker, you could've just asked." Varric quipped.

"What!-I!- NO!" Cassandra shouted, eyes widening in alarm. This is not what was meant to happen! Blast and damnation! Her face went white as a sheet and she stood—frozen on the spot—as he laughed mercilessly at her obvious discomfort.

A crowd had gathered around them now. Andraste preserve her, this was more public than she wanted, and it seemed that he was not at all afraid to make their dealings known to the general audience with how freely he spoke. Damn him. He wanted to make sure she wouldn't be chosen as Divine, most likely for his own morose amusement. Well, she would not take this lying down. She may have harboured secret feelings for him, but no more. He was such a callous ass. Maker take him! She could not involve herself with someone who publicly took pleasure in treating others like refuse.

"ahem." The Herald's voice shattered her thoughts like glass. Superb—just what she wanted, to have the Inquisitor come and hear first hand how she had let her own judgment slip, for what exactly? An amorous fling? Only to be humiliated in such a fashion. She was so very ashamed.

"I swear on Bianca, Inquisitor, I didn't do anything to provoke this kind of behavior from our Seeker. I have no idea why she has her knickers in such a twist!" He protested, confusion etching itself into his features.

Oh for Andraste's sake, he was covering up his dealings in the matter! What a farce! He was about as innocent in all this as the coterie in a lyrium smuggling operation!

"You must have said something to-" Leona started, crossing her arms.

The Herald had seen first hand, thankfully, of what Varric was capable of; he had taken to badgering her at every opportunity when they were on an expedition together. Sometimes the Inquisitor would step in and come to her aid if he became relentless, but most of the time she had to fend for herself. Thank the Maker she had deemed it one of those times.

Varric interjected, Shock evident in his words. "On my mother's honor! All I said was good morning to her and she practically took my head off!"

That lying bastard! He knew what he'd been up to, only to deny it when someone of authority had began asking questions. If this was how things were going to be played, then she would fight fire with fire.

"You were staring at me in a strange fashion. I don't appreciate being leered at Varric, especially from the likes of you." She sneered at him.

Take that you insufferable dwarf!

The anger and hurt seeped into her heart like a poison. She had almost thought that they were becoming friends… and maybe, just maybe something more would follow after Corypheus was defeated. But now, there seemed no hope in it for them. They would never get past captor and captive. How could they be so close to making headway on their friendship to have him pull such a cruel act upon her.

"You can't be serious, Seeker. I _leered_ at you? Don't go flattering yourself!" Varric gawked at her, completely stunned.

The Herald chose to step between them then, putting her hands out, trying to put some space between her and Varric. Cassandra guessed it was to ensure that she would not try and lash out with physical violence. It was too late for such a prevention though. Animosity was at a breaking point and she could not stay idle and let him get away with hurting her like this.

"I know what I saw Dwarf!" She accused him haughtily.

"Oh go suck on a Pommel-nut! I wouldn't sheath one of Bianca's shafts in you, let alone my own!"

Maker, did he just say that?! And yet he did! How dare he lie about this! It was preposterous! "Come here you little shit, I'm going to wring your neck!" Cassandra snarled as she took a wild swing at the dwarf, the Inquisitor barely being able to constrain her focused rage.

A booming laugh rumbled over the heads of the gathered audience. "That's the stuff Varric! Make sure she's good and mad for our sparring session later! She hits so much _harder_ when she's hot for it."

The words cleaved through the thick air of like an axe, and Cassandra's face blanched instantly. There was no mistaking it this time; she had heard those same words from Varric's mouth hours earlier, just before they had finished their tryst. Those very words were now coming from Bull, slapping her in the face with its suggestion.

Slowly she turned around, as his sheer bulk overshadowed her. "B-Bull? Wh- what are you doing here?!" she was frantic. This had no right to happen. First, Varric and now him? The Maker most certainly was making a mockery of her for her choices as of late. All of the air felt as if it were knocked out of her and she crumpled slightly in his mountainous presence.

"Forgotten Already? I'm hurt Cass! I was looking for you; you said you wanted to spar this morning remember?" then he smirked, at the Seekers' nonplussed expression, "And it looks like you're in need of a good pounding to loosen you up." The Iron Bull winked at her; his solid muscles flexing in a proud on display as he posed. Sweet Andraste, she could no longer take this. She needed to leave immediately so she could deal with the multitude of feelings that were consuming her. Holy Divine, she yearned to hit something. The pells. That's where she should be at this moment. Hitting all her frustration, hurt, and shame away.

"I- I- must go." She excused herself feebly; she needed to be away from them both. Their combined presence made her cheeks flush the colour of bloodstone with their beastly banter and she truly disliked being the centre of attention from it. Wasting no time she took off, feet flying back out the main doors and hurriedly down the steps, putting as much space between her and that dreadful encounter.

She crossed the courtyard in record time, stopping by the armoury to pick up her sword on her way over to the dummies. However, when she opened the door and stepped outside, Blackwall appeared to have had the same idea. She cursed. This would most certainly put a branch in the wagon spokes. Perhaps she could convince him to come back later? Or, in allowing her black mood show itself, he might allow her to use them first, for fear of being on the receiving end of her temper.

She marched up to him, imposing an aura of quiet rage. "Warden Blackwall," she nodded curtly. "I am in need of the pells. You will have to wait until I have finished my training." Pulling her sword from it's sheath, she turned and positioned herself to hit the dummy, taking his immediate silence as agreement. How wrong she was.

Blackwall cleared his throat. "Excuse me Seeker Pentaghast, but I believe I was here first. So, If y' don't mind, you'll need to wait _your_ turn."

Truthfully, he was as courteous as ever, but his tone did not match the words he spoke. There was a hint of annoyance laced in between them, that immediately put Cassandra on edge.

She turned on him, her eyes swirling with rage like a storm. "Listen here, Warden," pushing a gloved finger into his gambeson covered chest, "I was here first, now move along. I do not have time for this trifling argument."

Blackwall stood up to his full height at her speech, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "Don't Warden me, _Lady_ _Pentaghast_. You're lucky I'm honourable enough to not strike a woman of your rank and aristocracy," He spat back.

"Is that so. Well, it just so happens that I consider myself neither." With that, she swung and attempted to hit him with her blade, her ire roused to an insuppressible amount.

A melodic voice interrupted their impromptu sparring match. "Seeker Pentaghast. Might I have a word?" It was the Ambassador.

"Not now, Josephine. I am- busy! Uugh!" She shouted as her blade whipped through the air, attempting to land a blow upon his shoulder. She missed him, but only just, as he sidestepped just at the last moment, knocking her blade down with his own.

That's when Cassandra noticed the change in his demeanour. He paled under the cover of his beard and he stumbled a few steps back, as if he had actually taken the blow from her sword.

"I- I surrender, Seeker Cassandra. You may have the use of the pells. I'll come back later to use them. G- good day to you both," stiffly bowing once, and hastily taking his leave at a halla's pace back to the stables.

His unusual behaviour struck her curiosity like a match, and she would have gone to investigate if it weren't for the Ambassador insisting on speaking with her. No matter. She now had the pells all to herself, and after lady Montilyet was satisfied, she would strike viciously at the training dummies until they were unusable or she felt better—either one would suffice.

Sheathing her sword, she turned and acknowledged Josephine with a guarded manner, prompting her to move forward to speak. Cassandra knew that she had seen the altercation in the main hall, as she had followed Leona when she came to break them up; her discussion would no doubt be about why she had acted so out of character. Andraste preserve her, she didn't want to talk about this right now.

Josephine sidled up to Cassandra. "Strange. Do you per chance know why Warden Blackwall excused himself so hastily? It seems that I had startled him in some way. I only wish to know, so that if I caused him any embarrassment, I could rectify the situation."

Cassandra hummed. "No, I do not. His change in disposition was quite unusual, I agree. Perhaps he was reminded of something important when he spotted you, and wanted to attend to it immediately. That is the only possible explanation I can give. Now, what was it that you wished to speak to me about? I hope it was not about my earlier encounter with Varric and Bull, because I do not wish to speak further on the matter. It has been dealt with."

"But Seeker Cassandra, you are acting so strangely-" the Ambassador started.

The Seeker grimaced. "Some things are better left unsaid, Ambassador. I am fine; leave it be. I do not need to be coddled like some child," She sighed. If she was going to be hounded like this about the confrontation, it may be best if she left Skyhold and found solace amongst the surrounding region instead. At least then, she could work out her feelings in peace.

"If you do not need me any further, I am intent on going for a long walk. Please send my apologies to Inquisitor Leona." With that, she made to grab her meager belongings and headed for the exit out of Skyhold.

~aCc~

Cassandra did not come back until just after dinner the next day, feeling more centred and refreshed than she had since her dream. Having time alone allowed her feelings to be sorted out, and her heart began to heal from the wounds Varric had caused with his lying and the embarrassment that Bull had induced.

After her effects were squared away, she entered the main hall, craving a hot meal and the company of the inquisition. It was good to be back. She hadn't realized how she had missed the general hustle and bustle that was Skyhold until she was met with the near silence of the Dales surrounding the fortresses.

Sliding into a seat—far, far away from both Varric and Bull—she began to eat with relish, the food tasting much better than the scant rations she had packed. Closing her eyes, she savoured the hot stew as it warmed her from the inside out, revitalizing her tired body.

Leona's voice suddenly hit her ears, nearly choking on a piece of meat. "Good evening, Cassandra. Was your walk... rejuvenating, I hope?"

Cassandra cleared her throat. "Quite. I feel much better for it, actually. Much less on edge."

"So, now you've had some time to yourself, do you want to talk about what happened? I promise I'm a great listener and can take a secret to the grave if need be. Not that I've tried, mind."

Cassandra chuckled. "Thank you for your offer, Inquisitor, but no. I have already dealt with it myself, there is no need to dwell on it further," she shot a glance at Varric and Bull while she spoke. "I- I did something inexcusable, that has the potential to cost me greatly. Again, I have let my feelings rule me and have since been spurned in return. I realize now the foolishness of my actions and have since rectified the situation. It will not happen again, I can assure you."

~aCc~

Leona did not have the heart to pry further into why Cassandra had acted so strangely nor why she had decided to take such a long, impromptu walk. The confusion and hurt were evident on her face as she let slip about the unknown foolish action that had her so torn up. The only thing she took note of was the way she looked over to glance at the Iron Bull while she talked about her feelings ruling her and being spurned by them. Could she have confessed love to him, only for him to not return her feelings? Had Varric found out and incessantly teased her to the point of forcing her hand to react?

Her heart went out to the seeker. She herself had only just found that the object of her own affections—Commander Cullen—had already been taken by Dorian. By the Maker, it was no fun having your heart crushed under the weight of unrequited love.

The need to show compassion welled up within Leona and without a second thought, she reached out and gave the Seeker a hug. At first, Cassandra felt like a stiff piece of leather in her arms, but the longer Leona's arms were wrapped around her, the more relaxed she became. Soon, the seeker's strong arms returned the embrace with as much kindness as she put forth herself.

Cassandra smiled as they released each other. "Thank you, Herald. For everything."

"Anytime Cassandra, that's what friends are for," Leona pointed out. "If there is anything you need, anything at all, don't hesitate to ask. I will always be willing to help," Leona made to stand. "Well, I think I shall take my leave, now. I'm glad you're feeling better. And Cassandra? Please, just call me Leona... it's what all my friends call me. Goodnight."

With that, Leona left Cassandra to her dinner and headed to her private quarters. So many strange things were going on, she could hardly keep her head on straight. Something indeed was going on among the inquisitions ranks and she needed to get to the bottom of it, if she was going to be able to focus on Adamant and ultimately defeat Corypheus. Hopefully she could find the time to ask around and find out what had everyone so up in arms about. This was certainly getting stranger and stranger by the minute and she hoped there would be a solution to all this before time ran out.


End file.
